The New Boss
by sexylittlevulcan
Summary: Star Trek Moder!Verse AU - Jim is a retired soldier working at a animal shelter and McCoy is a retired doctor, now working as the new vet, and as Jim's new boss. Jim isn't used to someone trying to take care of him, and what can he do about these growing feelings when McCoy is still married? Kirk/McCoy. WARNING: SMUT. VIOLENCE/BLOOD (in the form of bar fights)


**This is so far a slow progress and I was hoping to have written the first few chapters before I uploaded, but then I though I might as well upload the first chapter as it will most likely prompt me to write some more to chapter 2 haha**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter One: The New Boss

Jim sniffed and wiped his hand across his face, smudging it with red. That hadn't hurt as much as he thought it would, but that probably had something to do with the amount of liquor currently flowing through his system. He smirked and looked up, just in time to meet a second fist, then a third, and his head connected with the ground. It was unfortunate that this was a normal Tuesday evening for Jim Kirk. There was one last hard kick to the back, his attackers jeered drunkenly to each other, and eventually left him alone in the street.

This was what his life had come to. Six months ago Jim was a naval officer, now he was retired, having been shot in the shoulder. Although everything was back in working order he'd been refused return to duty, and Jim knew it was because he hadn't taken his medication or done the exercises. His shoulder had healed badly and now easily became stiff and achy, so the doctors hadn't cleared him for active duty.

It took a lot of effort to drag himself up off the floor, which Jim didn't realise until afterwards was wet and dirty. His head was going to pound in the morning, not that that was anything new. Jim often headed into work hungover or with few cuts and bruises on his face. His boss never questioned it, and he supposed that that was because he worked in an animal shelter now. It was only the dogs and cats who saw his face.

Jim groaned and dragged himself the rest of the way through the city to the crummy apartment he called home. Being shot in the shoulder had ruined his life, in his opinion. The animal shelter was the only place that hadn't cared enough about his past to hire him, but it wasn't perfect. Jim only just earned enough to cover his rent and bills, and the rest of his wages he spent on his liquid diet of three cups of coffee in the morning and three glasses of whiskey at night. But what was he to do?

When he got home and looked in the mirror Jim was actually shocked by his reflection. Those two punks he'd decided to pick a fight with had really messed up his face, and Jim was sure he had never looked so broken before. His left eyes was dark with a bruise, his bottom lip swollen and split and trailing blood down his chin, and there was blood coming from his nose as well. From the feel of his back when he moved, Jim also guessed he had a nasty bruise from the kick her had received whilst on the floor.

Not that it mattered. He had a quick shower and cleaned up his face as best he could before crawling into bed, climbing back out again four hours later for work feeling like he hadn't slept at all.

Morningside Animal Shelter was owned by Sandra Clarke, who was always away and left the business pretty much to the vet in charge, who was Marianna McCarthy. She was a beady-eyed woman with a kind smile who always overlooked Jim's appearance and hungover states but brought him his coffee. She was probably the only thing that made his life worthwhile at the moment, and if she wasn't already engaged to a Mexican football played Jim would have given her a shot. It was a depression thought, but he always greeted her with a small smile on entering the building anyway.

This morning however, when Jim passed her office from the main reception to the staff room, he did not see Marianna pulling on her white vet's coat like normal. In fact her entire office had been cleared out and in its place there was a man and a selection of unopened cardboard boxes. Jim stopped and stared, unable to help himself, because the man was drop-dead-gorgeous. Whoever he was, he was tanned and rugged with dark hair and eyes and a chiselled slightly stubbly jawline.

It had been a long time since Jim had become hot and bothered over a man; though not really picky about which side he was on, he preferred the ladies with their soft curves and delicate hands. This man however was making Jim's heart thud against his ribs, and he was just about to knock on the door when the man glanced upwards, almost as though sensing he was being ogled at. Jim made an odd sound and darted out of the way, getting into the staff room as quickly as he could without throwing up. To his horror the man followed him. Jim was in the middle of changing into his scrubs when there was the sound of approaching footsteps and someone knocked on the already open door before coming in.

"You're the kid who works with the animals." He said, and his words were deep and smothered in a Southern accent that sent a shiver down Jim's spine.

He half turned towards him, clutching his tunic to his chest, as he'd been in the process of pulling it on over his head. "Err…yeah?"

"Jesus man, what've you done to your back?" The man exclaimed, quite suddenly, coming right up to him and taking hold of his shoulder with a soft but strong hand. "You've got a bruise the size of my car!"

Jim pursed his lips and dragged himself free, turning to face him completely and pulling on his tunic. "Yeah. I know. Thanks." He didn't look up at him. "I've got work to do so…bye. Whoever you are."

He couldn't get to the animals quick enough. The only interaction he had with people was in a bar or in a bed, or with Marianna about his morning coffee, and Jim was in no mood to discuss his injuries with a complete stranger no matter how god-damn attractive he was. Instead he went to visit his favourite dog. She was a Border Collie named Jessie who had been brought to the shelter after having been hit by a car and then never claimed by an owner, and Jim had been helping her to recover. If he had the money and the home to own her, Jim would have done it in a heartbeat.

"Hey girl." He cooed, crouching down to the cage door as he fumbled at his belt for the keys. "You want a walk? Shall we go for a walk?"

He almost fell over when he straightened up to see that man from before striding towards him, his face set hard with purpose and what appeared to be a first-aid kit clutching in his hands. Jim rolled his eyes, turning to face him with a less than pleased expression on his face.

"Hey, listen, mate, I don't need anyone taking care of me. I have perfect—"

The man took hold of his shoulder and pushed him roughly towards one of the tables they used for grooming. "Sit." He ordered.

"Hey! Hey! Alright!" Jim cried, a little taken aback. "Jesus, who the hell do you think you are?"

He didn't get a reply straight away. The man waited for him to hoist himself onto the table before pulling up his tunic, inspecting the large bruise before zipping open the first-aid kit. "Name's McCoy; Leonard McCoy, and I'm your new boss."

Jim almost fell off the table. "You _what_? Where the hell is Marianna?"

"She's moved to Mexico to live with her fiancé." He replied gruffly. "Now just hold still. I used to be a doctor, so I know what I'm doin'."

He fell quiet, watching Leonard as he pulled some sort of gel from the first-aid kit, but not really paying attention. Marianna hadn't even said goodbye. She had just up and left him. Not that they had talked much, but Jim had always regarded her as slightly more than an acquaintance. He was quickly brought out of his thoughts when he felt something cold and wet placed to his bruise, and he hissed in pain as Leonard started to tenderly massage the area.

"You might've bruised your spine." He murmured, more to himself it seemed than to Jim. "It's swollen just a little, right here."

Jim felt another twang of pain and instinctively arched his back away from Leonard's hand, even though the gel seemed to be some sort of cooling antiseptic stuff and it was actually starting to feel less achy. "All well." He replied quietly. "I can still work."

"You shouldn't. But I'm not your doctor." Leonard wiped his hand on his trousers. "You should go see a doctor though. Get that back seen to. You don't wanna make it worse."

"Gee, thanks, but I don't need to." Jim actually scowled at him. He had had enough to doctors telling him what to do for one life time. "Thanks for the cream and your concern and all, but I can take care of myself."

He went to the cage and let Jessie out, crouching awkwardly to scratch her ears and let her lick his cheek, as was their usual greeting. Leonard watched him out of the corner of his eye as he packed away the first-aid kit, deciding not to say anything more on the matter.

"What's your name kid?" He asked instead. "I'm your new boss after all, I need to know."

Jim groaned inwardly. "It's Kirk. Jim Kirk." He said, and then he fixed a leash to Jessie's collar and led her from the building out into the fenced grassy courtyard for a run.

They didn't meet again until home time. Jim had spent as much of the day as possible with the dogs, walking them and grooming them, before heading over to play with the cats and check up on one who had not long given birth to six kittens. By the time that was done it was five o'clock and time for him to head to his usual drinking hole, and probably receive a few additions to his already beaten face if those two punks were there again. He was just about to leave the building when someone called his name, and Jim turned to see Leonard coming towards him from his office, a coat wrapped about his shoulders.

"You need to see a doctor kid." Was the first thing he said, after having been worrying about him all day. "Twist in the wrong way and your back'll give out. You won't be able to walk for a month or two."

Jim ground his teeth together. "I don't need your help." He had to try very hard not to snap, instead reminding himself that Leonard was only wanting to help and people actually did that in the world. "Thank you." He added stiffly.

The man wasn't giving up so easily though. "Then I'll look at it. I won't charge."

It sounded more like a decision had been made than a suggestion, and before Jim could even open his mouth he had been ushered into Leonard's office and forced the wrong way round into a chair. He didn't bother complaining anymore, since the man was hell-bent on seeing to him, so instead Jim rested his chin on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. The man rolled up his t-shit and started to gently work his fingers down his spine.

"Does it hurt when I press here?" Leonard asked after a while.

Jim pulled a face. "Yeah, a little."

"And here?"

He shook his head. "No. Just the first place."

Leonard made an 'hmm' sound and straightened up. "Alright, well you haven't bruised any vertebra, which is good. It's just the muscle that's swollen and bruised. I'd still recommend takin' some tablets though; just regular pain killers."

Jim rose from the chair. "Thanks. Can I go now?"

"Sure." Leonard replied, though he didn't look happy about it because there was a frown on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He didn't reply, and he also didn't go to a bar, instead deciding he was too fed up to even drink himself into a stupor.


End file.
